


Specter

by Ssirius_Blackk



Series: Rumbelle fic gift exchanges [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Absinthe, Also a very brief major character death, F/M, It doesn't last long I promise, One brief reference to alcohol, Rumbelle Secret Santa, Rumbelle Secret Santa 2015, Victorian Gothic AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 11:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5454449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ssirius_Blackk/pseuds/Ssirius_Blackk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanks to a life-altering offer by a mysterious, notorious noblewoman, Belle French is sent to an old castle in the Scottish countryside to catalog and organize it's library. Unfortunately (or fortunately), she isn't alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Specter

**Author's Note:**

> Here you go autumnslioness-dearie! I really hope you like it (: The prompt was Victorian gothic, alcohol, dark-one rumple. I have full intentions of making this a prompt 'verse, so if there's anything you're curious about, or would like to see, shoot me message!

**_London, October 1887_ **

The ball was boring and cliché, yet another event for her father to flaunt his  _nouveau riche_ status. And to parade her around to potential suitors. All rich, all well-connected, all completely two-dimensional in their personalities. The ladies were as equally underwhelming, though it was mostly because of the strict standards that were set for the well-bred women.

Belle French had managed to excuse herself and hide behind a pillar next to the condiments table. She leaned against the marble pillar, closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath.

“It’s all rather dull, isn’t it, dear?” a silky, feminine voice asked.

Belle started at the sound, moving away from the pillar and turned quickly to see a tall, elegant woman dressed in black and sans a mask. The woman gave her a red-lipped, knowing smile. Belle stared at the woman, briefly mesmerized by her sudden appearance. Belle quickly realized that the woman had said something, and she had only gaped at her.

“I’m sorry?” she asked.

“The ball. It’s rather dull, don’t you think?” the woman replied.

“I -- yes. Yes, it is.” Belle muttered. “Balls are interesting only once. Every soiree after that is more or less an exact copy of themselves.”

The woman laughed. “I heartily agree.”

The woman lifted the champagne flute to her lips, staring intently at Belle. Belle shifted slightly, feeling uncomfortable under the older woman’s intense gaze. She readjusted the golden gilded mask she wore.

“I see you have a book with you. That’s not something you see on a young lady’s person. At least, not during a social event,” the woman said.

Belle looked down at the small tome in her hands, and clutched it tighter to her chest. “I…I like to read.” She stated lamely.

The woman laughed once more. “I can see that. What is it that you are reading?”

“ _Her Handsome Hero.”_  Belle said.

“How quaint.” The woman chuckled.

“It’s better that I have a romance novel when I’m out in society rather than having Henry David Thoreau or Charles Darwin,” Belle tried to explain.

The woman nodded sagely. “Yes, society is…judgmental.”

The woman moved closer and bowed her head slightly. “Forgive me, I have yet to introduce myself. My name is Lady Regina Mills, Countess of Loxley,” she introduced herself. “And you are?” she asked.

Belle felt her eyes widen a bit more. She had heard the rumors about the noblewoman. She came from a family distantly related to royalty. At eighteen, Lady Mills married the widowed Duke Leopold Blanchard of Misthaven in an effort for his young daughter and heir, Mary Margaret, to have a mother. Ten years later, the duke died under mysterious circumstances, causing everyone to think he was murdered. Lady Mills was, of course, suspected at first, until a jilted former lover of hers by the name of Sidney Glass was revealed to be the actual killer. Not long after, Lady Mary Margaret pursued her inheritance, which led to an extensive legal battle. In the end, Lady Mary Margaret gave Lady Mills only a small portion of the vast Blanchard fortune. It was enough, at least, to entice the newly appointed and recently widowed Earl of Loxley, Robin Hood. Through it all, the woman managed to keep her maiden name, which was a surprise to many.

“Oh, um,” Belle gave a quick curtsy. “Belle French.”

“How polite. But has yet to learn the etiquette of the  _ton_ , I see,” Lady Mills observed, circling around the petite young woman.

Belle gulped, feeling like prey being scrutinized by a predator. But she decided it was better if she stood a little straighter and jut her chin out a bit further.

 _Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow._  She told herself.

“Such a straight back…you must be proud,” she continued. “And  _brave_ , a rather…unusual trait among rich young ladies. Hmm…and you look like a well-read, intelligent individual. Not mousey, like others. A bookworm with teeth, I would say.”

“My lady, if I may ask…what do you want from me?” Belle couldn’t help but wonder.

Lady Mills’ smile widened. “I am so glad you asked, Miss French.”

Before she could elaborate, Belle heard her father, Maurice, call out to her. She looked over her shoulder and saw him stomp towards her, clearly trying to contain his anger and probable embarrassment. She grimaced, and steeled herself for the onslaught that was her father’s mild rage.

“There you are, Belle! What in the world are you doing?” he demanded.

“Father, I was just --” Belle started to say.

“It was my fault, actually,” Lady Mills interrupted. “Miss French and I were becoming acquainted, and we apparently lost track of time.”

“Lady Mills,” Maurice gasped. “Forgive me, I did not see you there. Is your husband around?”

“Perhaps. I haven’t noticed.” Lady Mills said.

Maurice gaped at her. “What were you doing with my daughter?” he suddenly asked.

“We were simply talking. Actually, I was about to give her a proposition,” she replied.

“A proposition?” Maurice repeated. “In what way? If it is a business proposition, it should be directed to me --”

“The proposition is for your daughter.  _Not for you._ ” she interrupted him with a sneer.

Maurice fell silent, staring at the noblewoman with surprise. He wasn’t sure how to proceed, especially considering how cordial the woman was only moments before.

 “Miss French, if you would follow me, please.” Lady Mills ordered.

Belle looked between her father and the retreating back of Lady Mills, then quickly followed her.

Lady Mills led her into one of the sitting rooms. She waited by the door as Belle slowly walked in. As soon as she was fully in the room, Lady Mills locked the door. Belle gave her a quizzical look.

“So as to make certain that we are not disturbed.” Lady Mills explained.

Belle nodded and sat down on one of the settees. She smoothed out her gold skirt and removed her masked. Lady Mills smirked as she sat across from her.

“And now we find that the bookworm is actually a pretty little kitty. A Russian Blue, I would say.” She commented.

“My lady, can we please get to the point?” Belle asked, feeling irritated. 

Lady Mills’ smile widened. “Very well.” She readjusted the folds of her skirt before she turned her full attention on Belle.

“As I said before, I have a proposition for you, Miss French,” she began.

Belle nodded her understanding, and urged the noblewoman to continue.

“My husband and I have recently inherited a new estate – a castle, to be more specific -- that had belonged to my father’s family in Scotland. It’s a rather large and ominous place.” She continued. “And while we have no plans of moving in entirely, we do wish to make it more…respectable.”

“How do you plan on making it respectable, my lady?” Belle asked.

“Cleaning it up a bit, naturally. Starting with the library,”

Lady Mills smiled at the sight of Belle perking up when she heard the word  _library_ , straightening her spine further as she simultaneously leaned forward.

“What does that have to do with me?” Belle wondered, clearly more cautious than before.

“I’ve been gathering a great amount of information about you, Miss French. I know that even before your father came into his current wealth, you were well educated. That you were lucky enough to earn a scholarship to a very fine finishing school. And that all of your teachers agreed that you while are highly intelligent, you spend more time with your nose in a book. I also know about the  _incident_  during your time there, and how you managed to solve it. Which is  _exactly_ what I need.”

It was silent between them as Lady Mills allowed Belle time to fully absorb all the information she was given.

At first, Belle was confused, but upon further reflection, she understood what the mysterious noblewoman was asking.

“You…you want me to organize the library?” Belle asked.

Lady Mills nodded.

“But why  _me?”_

“Because women in this world rarely get the opportunity to go on adventures. I know it’s not much, but it’s better than being married to a man old enough to be your grandfather.” Lady Mills explained.

Belle nodded in understanding. Lady Mills’ voice rang with truth.

“Then I accept your offer.”

 

* * *

 

Two days later, Belle found herself on a train heading to the Scottish countryside, staring out the window and reflecting on what all had transpired.

What had drawn her attention the most, more so than the passing grayish-green scenery, was Lady Mills.

Regina, as she had insisted Belle start referring to her as, was unlike many who graced Society’s inner circles. She was strong-willed and fiercely independent; traits that often frightened the conforming peoples of nobility and wealth. Regina knew how to manipulate and connive as well as any man. Somehow, though, she was still well-respected by everyone. 

And she had remained a mystery.

The reasoning Regina gave Belle for hiring her was, quite honestly, incredibly vague. While it did entice Belle initially, upon further thought, Regina wasn't very forthcoming.

The train whistle blew, pulling Belle out of the memory.

“Edinburgh Station!” the conductor announced.

Belle quickly gathered what little carry-on luggage she had, and followed the small throng of people out of the carriage and onto the station.

When her feet landed on the platform, she immediately searched around for Archibald Hopper, the gamekeeper of what Lady Mills called the estate “the Dark Castle”.

“Miss French! Miss French!”

Belle turned at the sound of her name, and saw a thin, red-haired, bespectacled man wave and run towards her. She walked to meet him halfway.

“Miss French?” he asked when they both stopped in front of each other.

Belle nodded. “Mr. Hopper?” she wondered.

“Aye, yes. Let’s get your trunk and be on our way. Lady Mills said you have lots to do.” Mr. Hopper said cheerfully. “Oh, and please call me Archie. Mr. Hopper is too old fashioned for me.”

“Very well, then. Please lead the way, Archie.” Belle smiled and started to follow him.

They managed to weave between the throng of people with Belle’s singly large trunk, pack it into the waiting single-horse carriage. Archie helped Belle into the cab.

“It will take us two hours to reach the Dark Castle,” Archie warned her. “It’s a rough ride at that.”

Belle gulped slightly and nodded. She never cared much for carriage rides anyways, and although she was feeling warier than she had before, she was glad Archie decided to forewarn her.

“Just tap the cab if ya need anything, Miss French,” Archie added.

“Belle.” She said suddenly.

Archie tilted his head and squeezed his eyebrows together. “Sorry?” he wondered.

“I’d like you to call me Belle, since you’re allowing me to call you Archie.” She explained.

Archie smiled and nodded. “Alright then, Miss Fr— _Belle_. Off we go!”

He shut the carriage door, whistling as he walked away. Belle heard him hop up to the box and give a quick  _snap_  of the reins. The carriage jerked back a little bit as the horse started to move forward.

 

* * *

 

“…And this is the library.” Archie announced, opening the double wooden doors.

Belle cautiously peeked around the corner and saw how dusty, dark and dank it was. With what little light shining into the room, she saw the furniture was covered with white cloth, and the heavy velvet curtains were drawn. Belle saw enough to notice that books were stacked high and haphazardly in odd places, and the bookshelves were virtually empty.

She took a few cautious steps into the library, when she felt her spine tingle and gooseflesh rise all over her body. It was as if a dark energy surrounded her, trying hard to consume her. The energy frightened her and she stepped back hastily. She took a few deep breaths to calm her fast-beating heart.

“Did…did Lady Mills say anything about when I should start?” Belle asked in a whisper

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Archie had noticed her reaction to being in the library, but chose to say nothing.

“She told me that you should start the day after you arrive,” he replied. He started patting his chest and his legs, clearly searching for something in his pockets. He gave a quiet “ah!” when he found whatever it was he was looking for. He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a sealed envelope. “This arrived yesterday for you, from Lady Mills. I believe they’re instructions.”

Belle took the proffered envelope. She looked at the blood-red seal, and recognized the apple tree insignia that she knew belonged to the Mills family. Belle broke the seal and pulled out the letter. She read the letter fully after she had quickly scanned it.

_Miss French,_

_I hope this letter finds you well and in good health. I also hope the trip wasn’t too strenuous for you. Although, I rather think you do not wish to read such pleasantries, therefore I shall get right down to business._

_In regards to your duties: as I told you before, you’re to catalog and organize the books. I would like you to start the day after you arrive. As I’m sure the eager-to-please gamekeeper Mr. Hopper has already told you. I have yet to hire a full-time housekeeper and chambermaid, so you will have to clean the library yourself. I know it is not dignified work for someone like yourself, but you strike me as someone who does not shy away from hard work. We had already discussed your wages back in London, so there is no need to repeat it._

_In two months, my husband and I will come inspect the Dark Castle. That should give you plenty of time to make the necessary arrangements for the library._

_If you have any questions, inform Mr. Hopper, or contact myself. You may also write letters to your father if you so desire._

_Yours, Lady Regina Mills_

“You were right, Archie. They are instructions.” Belle said quietly.

“Ah, I thought as much. Anyways, let me show you where you will be sleeping,” Archie closed the library. “Oh, and I should probably show you where the kitchens are, hmm?”

Belle heard her stomach growl. She hadn’t eaten since before she went on the train in London early that morning, and she had only a small snack on the train, her nerves having prevented her from stomaching anything.

“I am a little hungry…” Belle admitted.

Archie smiled knowingly. “Come along then, I’ll introduce you to Granny Lucas and her granddaughter Ruby,” he said. He guided Belle down a flight of stairs and through three different halls. “They used to come once a week to bring me my meals. But ever since Lord Hood and Lady Mills inherited the place, they had hired the Lucas’ to work in the kitchens full-time. Well, almost full-time. So far they’re just feeding you and me.”

Belle hummed her understanding, looking all around her. The castle itself was rather foreboding. Unusual and dark statues, figures and paintings were littered in random places throughout the castle. One painting in particular made Belle stop and stare. It was portrait of a woman who looked like Lady Mills, but older and clearly much colder. Belle shivered and wrapped her arms tightly around her.

As they walked closer to the basement kitchens, Belle could smell the warm wafts of food float in the air. She instantly relaxed at the thought of eating a home cooked meal.

“Here we are!” Archie said cheerily.

They stepped into the smoky kitchen, where she saw two women working at opposite ends of the room. On one side of the room, Belle saw a tall, slender young woman with dark hair, wearing a red dress underneath a dirty white apron, chopping up vegetables. On the other, a shorter, stouter woman with white hair and half-moon spectacles stood over a giant pot, stirring and tasting every once in a while. The women turned at the sound of Archie’s voice, and they both gave welcoming smiles.

“Ah, you must be Miss French!” the older woman said, setting down her wooden spoon and wiping her hands on her apron. The younger woman, whom Belle assumed was her granddaughter, followed suite. They slowly approached Belle and gave an unpracticed curtsy. “I am Granny Lucas. And this is my granddaughter, Ruby.”

Ruby nodded in greeting. Belle returned the nod.

“It’s nice to meet you both.” Belle said.

“You look famished, dear. Come, let’s fix ya something to eat before Archie escorts you to bed. You look absolutely exhausted as well!” Granny fussed.

Belle nodded again, suddenly feeling the weight of the day crash around her. She allowed the elderly cook to fuss and coo her. She felt too tired to do anything of worth besides eat her hot stew and drink a cup of tea.

When she was finished with the meal, Archie led her out of the kitchens and showed her to her bedchamber, which was directly between the kitchens and the library.

“I put your trunk here while you were eating,” he said when they arrived. He unlocked the door and opened it. “Granny and Ruby tidied it up a bit for you since we don’t have a maid yet.” He added.

“Thank you.” Belle said.

“Oh, here’re the keys to your room and the library. And here’s a lantern. I think Granny put a box of matches in one of the drawers.”

Belle mumbled another thank you, and bid him good-night. Archie smiled and nodded, closing the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

Belle tossed and turned in bed. She was hoping the trip was enough to make her sleep, but thoughts of the library and the energy she felt prevented such a wish.

No longer able to relax, Belle hopped out of bed and lit a single candle. She would have used the lantern, but it was an unusually bright one and she didn’t want to wake anyone.

Pulling on her wrapper, she picked up the candle and her bedroom key and walked out of her room. She closed the door quietly behind her, cringing when the door squeaked. She stood still for a moment, listening for footsteps. When she didn’t hear any, she padded towards the library.

Her insatiable curiosity, which she could usually ignore, was fully flared and controlling her actions. She rarely allowed herself to be led by her curiosity – especially after that unfortunate  _incident_ back at school. Belle had learned a great many, dark things that night. She shook her head to get rid of the memory.

She stopped when she reached the double doors to the library. Even with the doors closed she could still feel the strange energy emanate from the room. Everything about it told her to leave, to never come back. To not even try. But Belle couldn’t do that. She was nothing if not stubborn after all. Something her father constantly reminded her of.

Gulping, Belle straightened up a little, reached into her wrapper pocket, and pulled out the library key. With a shaking hand, she inserted the key into the lock and slowly turned it. She heard a quiet  _click_ , and slowly pulled one of the doors open. She slipped through and closed it behind her.

The light of her candle wavered a little when the door had slammed shut. She stiffened once more, looking desperately around her. The door was heavy, but Belle was certain she had been more careful closing it.

Taking a shaky breath, Belle slowly wandered further into the library. She lifted the candle further out, trying to discern what shape the shadows actually were.

Then, all of the sudden, the room became colder and darker. Belle looked at her candle and saw the flame became smaller. Her breath quickened and her heart beat even faster.

“What do you think you’re doing here, dearie?” a dark, lilted voice whispered in her ear.

Belle gasped and dropped her candle. The flame went out with a hiss. Belle took a few steps back, looking around her for the voice.

“Oh, did I frighten you?” the voice giggled.

Belle squeaked and turned around sharply until she was nose to nose with the spikey silhouette of a man.

Belle jumped back slightly when she heard him snap his fingers, her breathing coming out even faster than before. A fire roared to life in a fireplace, and the lamps scattered around the room lit up. The library illuminated enough light to give color to the creature in front of her. It was shaped like a man, but she knew, deep in her soul, that it was anything but human. Its green-gold scales glittered in the light, while its similarly colored eyes bore into hers. She couldn’t help but stare at its thin body, curly hair and tight leather clothes. It wore a jacket that was spiked, making its appearance all the more menacing.

“It’s not polite to stare dearie.” It said with a grin.

Belle quickly averted her gaze, and pulled her wrapper tightly around until she was hugging herself.

“Now, I ask you again:  _what do you think you’re doing here?”_  It said.

“I’m…I’m the new librarian.” Belle stuttered.

“Are you now? I don’t recall ever hiring you.” It giggled again.

Belle looked up and tilted her head to the side. “I beg your pardon?”

“What, are you deaf? I said I don’t recall ever hiring you to be my librarian,” it said. It started to stalk around her.

 _“Your_  librarian?!” she repeated with indignation.

“Oh, are you a parrot as well?” it retorted. “This is  _my_  library, just as this is  _my_  castle, and I certainly don’t remember hiring a pretty little bird like  _you._ ”

She stared at him once more, wide-eyed and even more confused. It stared back at her as it continued to circle her.

“I thought...I was told this castle belongs to Lady Mills…” She muttered, more to herself.

The creature stopped moving and turned sharply to glare at her. “What did you say?” it demanded.

“Lady Mills and her husband inherited this castle, and they hired me to catalog and organize the library.” She explained.

“ _Lady_ Mills! So that bitch Cora finally got herself a title, and a husband to match!” it hissed.

“Cora? No, her name is Regina.” Belle countered.

The creature narrowed its eyes, then it giggled again. “So, she used her  _daughter_  instead to get the power she so desired.” It muttered to itself. “How like her.”

Belle racked through her memory, trying to remember if any of the rumors she heard about Regina involved a woman named Cora. But all she could recall was that after Regina married her first husband, her mother had died under even more mysterious circumstances than the duke. It was something the  _ton_ never whispered about.

“Regina’s mother died after she married.” Belle said.

The creature giggled, this time more manically. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in centuries!” he twittered.

Belle shook her head at the creature. “Who are you?” she finally asked.

The creature smiled and dropped into an overly dramatic bow. “Rumplestiltskin, at your service.” It said, rolling the R as it spoke. He stood up and gestured to Belle. “And  _who_ might you be, dearie?” Rumplestiltskin asked.

Belle couldn’t help but giggle herself, as she dipped into a curtsy. “My name is Belle.”

Rumplestiltskin smiled. “How quaint.” He laughed.

He slowly started to walk around her again. Belle, no longer wanting to feel like prey, decided to follow suite and walked around as well. She faced him the entire time, eyeing him just as he was. Rumplestiltskin immediately stopped walking, resorting to sneering at her instead.

“This isn’t a  _game_ , dearie,” he snarled.

“I know it isn’t. But you seem insistent on treating this situation like one,” Belle retorted.

Rumplestiltskin narrowed his eyes, but relented with a nod. They fell silence once more, watching and waiting, following each other in a tense dance. Rumplestiltskin stopped moving, and regarded her with a quizzical look.

“Why would you want to do a thing like that?” he suddenly asked.

“Do a thing like what?” she repeated, giving him an equally quizzical look.

“Be a… _librarian_ ,” he clarified.

Belle shrugged, tightening her wrapper around her body. “I love books. And being here…it’s my very own adventure.”

“Adventure? So, you crave adventure, hmm?” he said with another one of his maniacal smiles.

In but a blink of an eye, he moved from behind the reading table to directly in front of Belle. He loomed over her, his nose nearly touching hers. Her breath caught in her throat, and her skin crawled in a way that was both disconcerting and pleasurable.

She shook her head to get rid of the unusual feelings. She finally looked into his eyes. They bore into hers, as if to funnel in every one of her secrets. Instead of being afraid, she could only wish that she could do the same.

“What are you?” Belle couldn’t help but ask.

Rumplestiltskin giggled again. Belle found the sound grating.

“ _That_  is a rather rude question.” he finally answered.

He was about to speak further when all the sudden he stood straight up and turned towards the curtain-drawn windows.

“Dawn approaches,” he whispered ominously. “I think you best run along now, dearie. It wouldn’t do to be caught in a library, alone and only half-dressed.”

Belle glared at him, and when she opened her mouth to say something, he vanished. Belle bit her lower lip angrily, then rushed blindly to the double doors and out into the dimly lit hallway.

  

* * *

 

 

**_December_ **

“My dear, it’s been a month since you’ve arrived, and you look as if you haven’t eaten or slept for less than half of it. You need to take a rest!” Granny Lucas chided. She looked at the grandfather clock next to the door and tutted. “It’s nearly 10 o’clock at night! The castle’s new master and mistress are coming in less than two days. Miss Belle, you need to stop working right this instant!”

Belle looked up from her catalog book, staring blankly at the older woman. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” she asked politely.

“This is  _exactly_  what I mean, girl – err, miss,” Granny groaned.

“Granny, I’m very busy right now. I don’t have time for…well, anything really.” Belle huffed. She returned to the stack of books she was listing in the catalog. “I’m finally starting to make progress with the cataloging. I’m almost ready to shelve the books.”

Granny placed her hands on her hips, as if ready for a confrontation, when all of the sudden, she was thrown out of the library by an invisible force. The doors slammed shut and locked with a resounding  _click_.

Belle jumped at the sound, looking towards the door and shaking her head disapprovingly.

“That wasn’t very nice.” She said.

“The old woman was being rather  _obnoxious_.” a high pitched voice replied.

In a puff of purple smoke, Rumplestiltskin appeared, sitting on one of the reading tables. He sat crossed legged and smirked at Belle. She rolled her eyes and returned to writing down book titles.

Rumplestiltskin had been sitting in that same spot, in the same way with the same expression every night since they met. At first, Belle found it distracting, especially when he would constantly interrupt and berate her organizational system. But after a few days of quips and small arguments -- and a rather awkward incident that involved her falling off a ladder as she tried to pry open the nailed-down curtains and he caught her -- they had found common ground in their shared love of books and knowledge. It ended up being extremely helpful for Belle when it came to cataloging many of the tomes. Not long after, they started a tentative friendship. They talked of other things, though they avoided discussing each other’s pasts as much as possible.

Rumplestiltskin tilted his head, regarding the tiny woman before him. Belle tried to ignore the feeling of his gold-green eyes boring into her back. She focused intently on the task of arranging the stack of books in front of her.

“Although, looking at you now, I see what the hag was talking about,” he mused. “You look positively  _dreadful_ , dearie.”

Belle froze. She dropped her pen and leaned her head into her hands. “I  _feel_  dreadful.” She muttered under her breath.

“What was that?” Rumplestiltskin asked.

She shot the imp-like specter another glare. Smoothing back her hair, she closed the catalog journal.

“I'll be right back.” She announced, standing up so quickly that a stack of books fell over. Belle groaned and knelt down to pick them up. Most of the books remained shut, except for one, which had fallen open.

She was about to close the black leather book when she saw an illustration of a young woman who looked similar to Regina. But the woman was harsh and sharp, unlike Regina who was comparatively softer. In fact, it reminded her of the portrait in the hallway to the kitchen. She looked at the picture more closely, and read the caption.

_Cora Mills. Born 1458, Scotland. Died 1867_

Belle flipped through the book, skimming through it. It looked like a collection of magical findings. She closed the book to read at the title. The words _Witches of the Western World_ were etched in silver lettering. Belle returned to the page, reading the description beside the illustration.

Memories of her last year in finishing school flooded back to her, reminding her of the _incident_ involving a similar woman, but who was significantly more alive than dead. At the time, anyways.

“Is…Is this Cora?” Belle asked hesitantly.

Rumplestiltskin visibly stiffened, but sauntered over to look at the page. He took the proffered book and stared at for a long moment. Suddenly he slammed the book shut and sneered at Belle.

“Where did you get this?” he demanded.

Belle shrugged. “It was in the pile I knocked over,” she said, pointing to the stack. “Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this particular set before. Although it could be that I hadn’t gotten to them until today.”

Rumplestiltskin stood still, his face as hard as stone. He kept his gaze on the curtain-drawn windows. Belle could feel the library tense, almost to the point where she couldn’t breathe.

“Rumplestiltskin?” she said quietly.

The room grew colder and the all the lights went out. Even in the darkness, Belle could see her breath puff out. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and tried to contain the shivering.

Rumplestiltskin looked back at her, his eyes still intense.

“You should go.” He said suddenly.

Belle stared at him in shock. “What – “

_“Yes, little girl. You should go.”_

Belle turned sharply and saw the ghostly-white figure of the woman in the book, albeit much older and significantly more frightening.

“Cora.” Rumplestiltskin sneered.

The apparition laughed. “Rumplestiltskin. It’s so lovely to see you again! How long has it been since we last saw each other?”

“Not nearly long enough, dearie.” He said.

He grabbed Belle by her shoulders, and forced her to the door.

“Get out now, Belle. I’ll keep her busy.” He whispered.

“But what about you?” She demanded, also in a whisper.

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle _her_.”

With a snap of his fingers, the doors swooshed open and Belle was pushed out by an invisible, magical force.

“Wait, Rumple – “

The doors closed as soon as she was in the hallway. Belle had miraculously landed on her feet. When she was certain that her feet were firmly on the ground, she ran towards the door, ready to slam her fist on it. Before she could even raise her hand, she was thrown back once more, this time landing on her backside. Belle stared at the library doors in disbelief.

“Miss Belle? Why are on the floor?”

Belle looked up and saw Ruby hovering above her.

“Oh, um, I-I tripped over some books when I was walking out of the library.” Belle stammered.

Ruby raised an eyebrow skeptically, but said nothing further. She held out a hand, which Belle gratefully took, and helped her get back on her feet.

“Granny was right; you look positively famished! No wonder you fell over.” Ruby mused.

Belle bit the inside of her cheek. She wanted to tell Ruby the truth, but she knew she couldn’t. Hardly anyone believed in the paranormal.

Ruby looked past Belle, her eyes focused on the floor. “It looks like you dropped one of the books.”

Belle turned around and saw _Witches of the Western World_ lying once more on the floor. She reached down and picked it up, holding it tight to her chest. Ruby smiled knowingly, clearly keeping any questions she had to herself. Belle couldn’t help but feel grateful by the gesture.

“Let’s get you something to eat, Miss Belle.” Ruby suggested gently.

Belle nodded in agreement, and allowed Ruby to lead her through the winding hallways.

  

* * *

 

 

Three hours later, Belle sat in her room with a single candle lit. Although she was full from her meal earlier, her stomach still churned as she thought about what had happened in the library, and what she had read in the little black book.

She could hardly believe that, in a way, her past was coming to haunt her. Once again, she had to deal with a witch. And not just any witch – a witch of the western world. Of course, the witch Belle inadvertently faced was alive and well at the time, but that didn’t make her any easier to defeat. It apparently took a simple spell to defeat her, and Belle hoped another spell would make this ghost of witch disappear.

Belle had read and re-read Cora’s chapter. She had learned that Cora had lived and practiced magic in the Dark Castle, which was the domain of a mysterious creature referred to only as “the Specter” and “the Dark One”. It was said the woman, after seeing that her unnamed daughter was successfully married off, was killed by two people: one of pure heart, and one of changed heart. Belle suspected that Regina and her former stepdaughter Mary-Margaret had something to do with it. However, it was clear that Cora had some unfinished business.

There was also spell, written in some obscure, forgotten language. But Belle could not decipher it, no matter how hard she tried.

Belle stared at the bottle of absinthe, which sat on her bedside table, warily. Ruby had suggested the use of the infamous “Green Fairy” after Belle had groaned in frustration after reading for the tenth time.

 _“There’s an artist in the village who uses the stuff all the time,”_ Ruby had said. _“It might help you try to read that stick-like gibberish.”_

She had everything she needed to drink it – the slotted spoon, the sugar cube, a glass of ice water and the Pontarlier glass Ruby had loaned her.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Belle went through the process Ruby told her to use for the absinthe. She picked up the spoon and put the sugar cube in it. She held placed the spoon over the glass and poured the absinthe over the sugar. Belle put the absinthe down and reached for a match. With a shaking hand, she placed it in the flame of the candle, then lit the sugar on fire. She waited until the flame died down before she put the sugar and the spoon into the glass, poured the ice water, and slowly mixed the dissolving sugar with the green alcohol.

With another deep breath, Belle took a sip. She pursed her lips as the liquid washed down her throat.

She sat and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Belle huffed in frustration. The only thing she was getting from the concoction was a heavy head. She decided that, since she couldn't keep her eyes open anyways, she would go to sleep and hope some inspiration would come to her in the morning.

Except, she did not sleep.

Instead, she remained awake, but in a barely lucid manner.

At first, obscure images appeared in her mind’s eye. Nothing comprehensive, just a rapid movement of light and color and sound. Then, it turned to black – into nothing, really.

Without warning, a tunnel-like light shone through. Belle decided to follow the light. It was a dream after all, what would be the harm in doing such a thing.

The light shone bright-white, nearly blinding her. Just as quickly as the flash came, it disappeared to reveal the library. Except, it was different: all the books were shelved in the manner Belle had intended for them, the fireplace was roaring with life and warmth, and there was a woman sitting at one of the reading tables with her back turned to Belle.

Hesitantly, Belle approached the mystery woman. When there were only a few feet between them, the woman turned and Belle gasped in surprise.

She saw herself. Albeit, this version was much older and clearly wiser, but it was the same face Belle saw every morning and every night in the mirror, before she came to the Dark Castle.

“I imagine you’re wondering why you’re looking at an older version of yourself.” The woman – Belle – said.

Belle opened and closed her mouth. She felt like a fish out of water.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be here for long. And you’ll forget what I look like, anyways,” the elder Belle reassured her. “I’m here to help.”

“H-help?” the younger Belle repeated.

The older woman smiled and nodded. “You’re trying to decipher the spell in the book. You’ve read it before, Belle. You only need to remember.”

Belle tilted her head, feeling even more puzzled. She wracked through her brain, trying to figure out where she had seen the nonsensical writing before.

“I see the absinthe has muddled your thoughts a little,” the other Belle observed. “I shall give you a hint. Do you remember the foreign student from your finishing school days? Elsa Arendelle?”

Belle nodded. She then suddenly staggered back when memories flooded through her. She remembered Elsa. She remembered trying to learn Danish in an effort to get to know her classmate, but, after getting continuously distracted in the school’s library, learned how to read and write in old Norse instead.

The other Belle smiled. “You know what to do now. All you need to do is wake up.”

 

* * *

 

 

Belle bolted upright in her bed. She quickly regretted the action as her head spun in a nauseating manner.

She tried to control her heavy, rapid breathing, forcing herself to take slower, deep breaths, and then sat still for a long moment to wait for the nausea to dissipate. When she was certain that she wasn’t going to vomit or get dizzy, Belle reached for _Witches of the Western World_ that sat on her nightstand. She rapidly flipped through the pages until she found Cora’s passage.

Although her head throbbed from the aftereffects of the absinthe, she was able to read and translate the spell that would make Cora disappear.

_Unfortunately, there is no incantation or potion to rid oneself of a witch's ghost of Cora’s power. For only an act of unconditional love and unwavering bravery can force a spirit back to the other side. The light of life must over-power the darkness that is vengeful. This act can also be used to break any curse that has been afflicted._

Belle read and re-read the passage, hoping for something better than a vague reference.

 _An act of unconditional love and unwavering bravery?_ Belle thought to herself. _I don’t even know how to get_ into _the library now, let alone what this act could be!_

She hopped out of bed and started to pace. She rolled the question around in her head, thinking up a hundred different possibilities. Every time the word “love” crossed her mind, she immediately thought of Rumplestiltskin. Belle wasn’t sure why, especially since they had only known each other for nearly two months. But, then again, it felt like they had known each other forever. While he could certainly be infuriating and moody, Rumplestiltskin was also unusually kind and thoughtful. He was also the most interesting person – dead or alive – that she had ever met. They would talk for hours and hours into the night, right until the last possible moment until the dawn came.

Belle stopped pacing.

She remembered reading somewhere that ghosts were notoriously nocturnal, as was Rumplestiltskin. She looked at the grandfather clock standing in the corner of her bedroom.

It was nearly dawn.

Without a second thought, not even a plan of attack, she ran out of her room, down the hall and to the library.

Belle came to a halt three feet away from the library’s double doors. She took a hesitant step forward, afraid to be thrown back by whatever invisible force field was in place.

When Belle didn’t feel the need to land on her backside once again, she pulled back her shoulders, and lifted her chin.

 _Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow._ Belle repeated the mantra to herself.

She took a few more steps forward. She couldn’t feel the energy from before, which meant that whatever magic Cora’s ghost possessed must have been weakening with the upcoming sunrise.

Belle reached the double doors and, with another deep, steadying breath, she pulled both doors open.

The room was still dark, but she could see the white, translucent, floating image of Cora illuminating the greenish-gold scales of Rumplestiltskin. They were glaring at each other, clearly at a standstill in whatever dual occurred during the night. Rumplestiltskin looked as if a snake had coiled around his whole body, binding his arms and legs tightly together. Belle saw what could only be a satisfied grin on Cora’s ghostly lips.

The two magical beings turned at the sound of Belle entering the room. Cora sneered in displeasure, while Rumplestiltskin stared at Belle in surprise.

“Belle…you came back.” Rumplestiltskin breathed.

Belle couldn’t help but smile reassuringly. “Of course I did.”

Suddenly Belle was lifted off the ground. She felt her throat constrict, like invisible hands were wrapped around it. Belle reached for her throat, and was surprised to find that nothing, not even the feeling of hands, was there. She looked desperately at Rumplestiltskin, and saw that he was alone, struggling against his binds.

Belle slowly averted her gaze, until her eyes met with Cora’s cold, angry gray eyes. Belle stared in wide-eyed fear, fighting for breath.

“How nice of you to join us,” Cora hissed. “I was just about to finish off my old master until you interrupted us.”

Belle felt her throat squeeze tighter. She gave an odd, gurgled sound, struggling futilely against the asphyxiation.

“Now, I have the pleasure of killing you both.” Cora smiled, closing her fist

Belle’s eyes flickered to Rumplestiltskin, who was moving freely and without constraint. Belle contained her surprise, focusing her attention back on Cora.

Despite her fear, Belle faced the witch’s ghost head on, trying not let her know that Belle was afraid.

Cora started to laugh. “Oh, what a brave, stupid girl you are! What did you think you were going to do? Read me to oblivion?”

Belle saw black spots cross her vision. Her mind was drifting, but she fought to stay conscious, even though all she wanted to do was let go.

Belle shook her head in answer of Cora’s question. The motion made the ghost cackle more.

“It’s futile to move.” She cooed.

 “Indeed it is, dearie.”

Though her vision was fading, Belle saw all the lights in the room illuminate, and Rumplestiltskin appear with a crooked-looking dagger. Cora had turned at the sound of the specter’s voice.

“What…how – “

“Say good-night, Cora.”

Belle was released from Cora’s ghostly grip, and fell to the floor. But she hardly cared. All she wanted was to sleep.

 _At least…I helped Rumplestiltskin._ She thought.

The last thing Belle saw before she closed her eyes was Rumplestiltskin stab the knife into Cora’s abdomen. The ghost screamed like a banshee, and a flash of harsh light appeared as Cora disappeared. Just as fast as the light came, it vanished.

Though her eyes were closed, Belle could still hear. She heard the sound of steel clang as it hit the hardwood floor, followed by the sound of leather boots beating against it.

“Belle…Belle, please wake up. She’s gone now, Cora’s gone for good.” She heard someone whimper. Belle thought it was Rumplestiltskin, but it didn’t _sound_ like him. It sounded almost…human.

“Belle, I love you,” the whimpering continued. “Please, _please_ wake up!”

 _I love you too._ Belle wanted to say. But she couldn’t feel her tongue. Only the strong urge to sleep for eternity.

Just as Belle was about to drift away into her own oblivion, she felt something equally soft and rough press against her lips.

For a brief moment, a cold dark blanketed over Belle. Then, all the sudden, a strong, powerful heat blossomed inside her, like the first spark in a roaring fire.

She suddenly felt so _alive_.

Her eyes opened wide and she gasped a deep breath. Her sight was blurry, but she could tell that there was something different about the library, as well as someone hovering over her.

“B-Belle?”

Belle blinked her eyes a few times to clear her vision. When her eyes were finally focused, she saw Rumplestiltskin.

Only, it wasn’t really _him._

The man before her was more…human. He wore a suit that many gentlemen dressed in, as opposed to the leather ensemble she was accustomed to. His skin was slightly wrinkled and tanned, whereas Rumplestiltskin was green and scaly. His eyes were brown instead of greenish-gold. His brown hair was the same, but instead it laid flat on his head with silver streaks, rather than crimped and sparkly.

“Belle, you’re…you’re…you’re alive!” the man breathed, looking impossibly relived. His voice was also different. It was deeper, richer.

“Rum…Rumplestiltskin?” Belle asked hesitantly.

Rumplestiltskin nodded. “Yes.” He answered.

Belle wasn’t sure she could believe him. She slowly sat up, then gently grabbed his face and stared at him intently. Despite the obvious differences, she recognized all the shapes and planes on him. Finally, when she looked back into his eyes, she saw the softness that Rumplestiltskin had whenever he looked at her.

“It…it is you!” Belle said, relieved.

Rumplestiltskin’s eyes shone with unshed tears, nodding. Belle felt the sting of similar tears, and wrapped her arms around his neck just as he pulled her into his arms.

They embraced each other for what felt like years. They finally released each other when they heard the doors to the library swing open. Standing at the threshold was Lady Mills and a man with slicked back blond hair and a trimmed beard, who Belle assumed was Regina’s husband, Lord Hood.

“Miss French, what are you doing on the floor? Why is it so dark in here? And who is this man?” the noblewoman demanded.

Belle and Rumplestiltskin scrambled to their feet.

“My lady, my lord.” Belle gave a hasty curtsy. “I just…this is…”

“I’m Mr. Gold. I’m an appraiser and solicitor from Glasgow.” Rumplestiltskin introduced himself with a small bow.

“Oh. I don’t recall hiring you.” Lord Hood said.

“That’s because I did, my love,” Lady Mills told her husband. “I asked him to come and see if there was anything of value in the castle. He used to work for my friend Mallory – you remember, her don’t you? – and she recommended him to me after we had inherited the castle.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded in confirmation.

Belle nearly dropped open her mouth in surprise but quickly schooled her features.

“I suppose you forgot to mention him to me, my dear.” Lord Hood said with an amused smile.

“Yes, of course. I’m very sorry.” Lady Mills returned the smile.

“Indeed.” He laughed. He leaned forward and gave his wife a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to go look for Hopper and have him give me a tour of the grounds.”

Lord Hood nodded at Belle and Rumplestiltskin and left.

Lady Mills brought her attention back to the two people before her. “Rumplestiltskin. It’s nice to see you again. Although, I wasn’t quite expecting you to look…human.”

“Regina. You’ve barely aged a day since I last saw you.” Rumplestiltskin said. “You still favor black, I see.”

Belle looked between Regina and Rumplestiltskin, puzzled by the exchange.

“You two…know each other?” Belle asked.

“Yes. ‘The Specter’ taught magic to both myself and my mother, a long time ago,” Regina said. “Mother decided that it was prudent to control me with spells, but I had decided to fight back. Rumplestiltskin taught me in secret before and after I was married. My former stepdaughter and I killed her twenty years ago after she murdered my late husband. I suppose her soul came back here and haunted the place.”

“I hadn’t seen her until Belle opened the book that sniveling idiot of an author Isaac wrote.” Rumplestiltskin added.

“Speaking of which, is that bitch gone?” Regina wondered.

Belle and Rumplestiltskin nodded.

“Excellent. Job well done, Miss French.” Regina smiled.

Belle stared at her indignantly. “Is that why you hired me? To get rid of your mother?”

Regina looked at her coolly, her smile still on her face. “Well, after you had done such a marvelous job of destroying my illegitimate sister Zelena, I knew you were the perfectly equipped to face my mother’s ghost.”

Belle gaped at her. Regina chuckled quietly, then walked over to the younger woman, and embraced with a quick hug. Before Belle could respond, Regina released her and walked out of the library. She stopped at the threshold, and looked back at Belle.

“Thank you, Belle.”

With those parting words, she left the room. Belle gaped at Regina’s retreating back. She could barely believe what all had occurred in the past two months.

“Belle?” Rumplestiltskin interrupted her reverie.

Belle looked back at him, sighed and gave him a small smile. He returned with his own, sheepish smile.

“Belle, I’m so sorry – “

Belle grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him into a hard, passionate kiss. She felt him stiffen beneath her lips, but then he deepened the kiss, pulling her tightly into him.

They finally released each other when they were at a loss for breath. Their foreheads touched, and their eyes were closed.

Nothing was really resolved, but there was time later for that. For right then and there, Belle wanted to enjoy the moment. She wanted to embrace the feeling of being home.

**_THE END_ **


End file.
